“You’re the one announcing it to the whole family. Now we want to know what Casey thinks, for fuck’s sake!” Ryan’s face starts to flare up.
I turn to Casey, who’s sitting there, staring silently at her plate. I’m scared that’s not a good sign.
“Casey?” I ask her, squeezing her hand.
She lifts her face to look at me, a smile opening across her face slowly, like sunrise, basking the room in a golden glow.
“So it’s true.”
“I told you.”
“The game’s over.”
“The game’s over, and we won, Casey. We both won.”
She gets to her feet and throws herself hard at me. “Remember to bring the jacuzzi,” she whispers into my ear. But it’s pointless: everyone bursts out laughing. They heard her, clear as day. “And the fridge, too. The big one.”
Everyone’s laughs grow louder, but I don’t join in. Not because I’m not happy, but because a different emotion is much stronger in me right now; tears are starting to sting at the back of my throat.
I think it might even be gratitude, or something.
Another emotion nobody knew Nick O’Connor could feel. And they’re fucking wrong if they think I’m going to waste it.
I kiss Casey on the head and she lifts her face to mine: I can see the same emotion reflected back in her beautiful blue eyes.
“I’ll bring anything you want, love. Anything you want.”
75
Nick
Iswing into the driveway and jump out of the car. I walk nervously up to her father’s front door, so terrified that I’m shaking. I have the strange sensation that someone’s going to get a beating tonight – and there are no prizes for guessing who it’ll be.
I step towards the door, just as the coach opens it. I stop in my tracks, my hands in my pockets and my head hanging, ready for the insults to rain over me.
“O’Connor.”
“Coach.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to pick up Casey.”
“Then you’re at the wrong door.”
“I wanted to talk to you, first.”
I finally lift my gaze to meet his, which is as cold and hard as ever.
“I’m listening,” he says, forcing me to speak.
“Well, you see, I know that I’m not… Well, I’m not exactly what you’d hoped for your daughter.”
“Observant of you.”
“And you’ll probably never accept this whole thing…”
“What thing, boy?”
